This week has been exhausting. The little tribe has been sick and who knows that looking after small people is lots of work, but when they’re not well, it’s lots more work. And don’t get me wrong, I love them, I love taking care of them and nurturing, but this week was just draining.
All I wanted to do was sleep but our little baby who still feels like it’s necessary to wake who knows how many times during the night and protest sleeping still needed me, and then today, my boy decided to poke not one, not two, not even 8 – but a whole bunch of little rocks right down his ear hole. So only a few weeks after taking our toddler to the hospital for the same darn thing (her’s was only one rock 🙌) we had to bundle ourselves into the car and visit this place again to get my son’s harvest of rocks out.
I don’t know about you, but I often sit in the doctor’s room with whichever kid, and think about how I can break the details to the doctor of why we’re there to sound as normal as possible. But I’ve never felt like a great Mum any time I’ve sat there with my child and said, “He stuck a lump of mince up his nose and it’s stuck.” “She dove out of her highchair and I think she broke a bone.” “Her brother pushed her off the lounge and she landed on her head and started twitching.” “She has a rock in her ear.” “She was kicking around in the bath and inhaled the water and spent about 5 minutes on and off blue and gasping for air.” “He has a bunch of rocks in his ear.”…..
But sometimes being a Mum is just exhausting, it’s doing things everyday that are just not normal, it’s doing things that are gross (like sucking a piece of mince out of your child’s nose with your mouth) it’s getting bathed in snot and goobers, it’s sleeping sitting up nursing your baby to sleep, and wiping bottom after bottom. And no one sees you. No body sees you walking around the darkness of your house at 4am rocking your baby and desperately praying that she will go to sleep. No one sees you washing out the skid marks in your toddler’s underpants, no one sees you holding your child down so doctors can do tests, or while you sneak into their room at night and kiss them one last time before you go to sleep. And one the day is said and done and it melts into the night which is all too soon said and done itself, you’re left gathering up the energy to do it all again over and over every day. And it really is the best, it really is the hardest, it really is gross and great and disgusting and beautiful. It’s pushing yourself beyond what you can handle because you simply don’t have a choice and it’s doing absolutely everything behind the scenes.
But God sees you. He sees you in the deep of the night, in the midst of the mess. He sees you at the end of yourself, in the exhaustion, in the doubts and the stretching. He sees you when you don’t know anymore, and when you are on top of it all. He sees you behind the oily hair, the slobber stained jumper, the sleepy eyes and tears of frustration. He sees YOU. All of you. All that you are. Everything that makes you, YOU. Because even though your kids see you as a walking peace giving, food making, entertaining, snot soaking, comfort bringing milkshake, your much more than that.
You’re more than a Mum or Dad.
It’s easy to forget that.
Remember that next time you’re blowing through your kids mouth in front of a bunch of medical students to try and get a freaking piece of meat out of their nose. Remember that when you’re in the quiet of the night with a baby on your chest. Remember that when you look in the mirror and wonder where the old you went.
You’re an amazing, strong and capable parent raising mighty warriors who will change their world.
And that takes some hard core work!